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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28285098">Love in a Prince's Personal Bathhouse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissArchie/pseuds/MissArchie'>MissArchie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Dorks, Dorks in Love, Dorks of the highest order, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Making Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No beta we die like Gilbert does on Crimson Flower, Oral Sex, Stress Relief, Trust Issues, Vaginal Sex, they're trying their best okay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:20:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28285098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissArchie/pseuds/MissArchie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a bizarre battle against an ancient foe in the deserts of Sreng, the Alliance-Seiros Army takes a final moment of rest before storming Shambhala.  A stressed, grumpy Claude decides to celebrate his birthday by his lonesome with an evening in his personal toilet.  An equally stressed, gloomy Byleth joins him.  An evening dedicated to de-stressing from their roles turns into something sweeter and - especially for the secret-happy Claude, blissfully safe - for the two lovers, both still new to the realm of romance.</p><p>Set during Verdant Wind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Gazing at Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamoria/gifts">tamoria</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my Claudeleth Discord Secret Santa exchange gift for tamoria!  I hope you enjoy this sudsy, relaxing Claudeleth bathhouse experience.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been a brutal week for the commander and tactician of the Alliance-Seiros Army.  What's a couple, still naïve to the world of romance even after consummation, to do?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is set during the final weeks of the Blue Sea Moon, not long after Claude’s Paralogue (“The Sleeping Sand Legend”).  See the notes after the story for more worldbuilding fun.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Master Claude…?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Don’t. </em>Talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Nader was fortunate that he had stood by Claude for so long. Despite being prone to carelessness, he naturally didn’t deserve the malodorous fate of the soldier who slipped out the Almyran Prince’s true name in the Srengi Desert. As it turned out, neither the bizarre weather nor the Wind Caller were the most dangerous things about it.</p><p> </p><p>“Not being very convivial, are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I <em>said</em> don’t <em>talk</em> to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“All right, all right! I’ll piss off,” Nader hissed, raising his hands up in defeat. “And stop with that terrifying glare! By the Creator, It’s the same as your mother’s…”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you insinuating something?”</p><p> </p><p>“...No, Master.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then go. Wajida is looking for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Nader scuffled off to search for his daughter, giving his Prince one last dismissive wave. Claude let out an angry huff, his body flopping forward and the newly-claimed Sword of Begalta nearly slashing his own leg. He needed a damn day to himself. Luckily, Derdriu was upon them, as was the army’s final chance for a reprieve before storming Shambhala. The reprieve would also suit his upcoming 24th birthday.</p><p> </p><p>As the army’s main figurehead, he’d normally give them parting words or lift their spirits, but today he said nothing, brusquely launched himself out of the wagon he was riding in, and stomped off, completely unaware of the box he kicked out from beneath him. As it smashed into the ground, its contents inside audibly shattered.</p><p> </p><p>Byleth gasped.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Byleth’s heart, unbeating stone that it was, still felt broken. The frustration and gloom would not leave her. Even with a beautiful, fashionable white gown with stays in her favorite shade of pink and endearing lilac-colored ribbons provided by the Riegan Estate, and even with a promise by Nader’s eccentric daughter that she’d try to find an acceptable substitute for her shattered birthday present in time, she could not shake the damned anxiety that had ruined her last chance at relaxation. In the midst of her mindless wandering, she found herself in the hallway that led to Claude’s personal bed and bath. While the former was familiar to her, courtesy of that dreadful yet successful Roundtable meeting back during the Lone Moon, the latter was not.</p><p> </p><p>He wouldn’t mind her taking a rest in his quarters, right? It was familiar to her, a place where she nearly broke down from the stress of her given role. Claude saw this, having realized that his treatment of her may not have been wholly ideal, and allowed her both into his room...and into his heart.</p><p> </p><p>Byleth flopped onto Claude’s king-sized poster bed, blushing at the memory of that wonderful night...shame that it was eclipsed by the horrors of Grondor and the like since then, among <em> other things.</em></p><p> </p><p>And what better place would there be to mull over the horrifically ill-timed bit of exposure that Almyran soldier spilled? <em> It wasn’t as if it were his actual bedroom anyway. What other secrets could he -</em></p><p> </p><p>“Calm down, Byleth…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>*splsh</em></b>
  <em>*</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hm?”</p><p> </p><p>Byleth shot up at the sound of the splash. Was someone taking a bath?</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmnh...”</p><p> </p><p>The soft sounds of flowing water guided Byleth into the direction of Claude’s personal toilet. She willed herself off of his plush blankets and mattress, walking slowly at the oak door that separated the two rooms.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Did he make a bath for himself without telling us…?” </em> Byleth, ever flustered by the swirling emotions that intensified around Claude, felt her cheeks turn pink. Never would she forget that night, when he was laid bare in front of her for the very first time. She would <em> never </em>forget that the man who bore down onto her was no longer a boy, no longer her impish student…</p><p> </p><p>The door was firmly shut, and there was nary a peephole on it. But Byleth, letting curiosity get the better of her, invoked her former student’s tracking abilities and spotted a strange slot on one of the wall-locked bookshelves that stood to the right of the door. Removing the useless little ornithology book that covered the slot, Byleth stared through the clover-shaped grate that peered into the toilet, and was met with a wondrous sight.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The first part of the colorfully-tiled room that Byleth gazed upon was the star-shaped holes that seemed to have been pierced above a dome. Gently draping downwards from this dome were vaults that – in lieu of bare arches – resembled honeycomb-shaped stalactites, with each puckered space holding puckered stars of green, blue, and red. These honeycombs tapered off as they descended downward, easing into a series of regular arches colored in warm, inviting patterns of deep gold and brown. Against the back of the toilet - all marble-built with small alcoves of gold and red glazed tiles – were three unique features: On the left, a painted mosaic of some tree, in the middle, an alcove with large, built-in cushion and pillows for lounging, and on the right, a visible system of pipes that seemed to be supplying the water. In front of these three were the main attractions: In front of the pipes on the right was a beautiful, stone-cast octagon-shaped tub, with steam that was thick and continuous; Byleth had suspected that magicked coals alone weren’t warming it. In the middle was a massive marble slab with bowls and other odd trinkets on top. Strangest of all, however, was a mostly enclosed alcove of wood and stone on the left, with steam rolling from beneath the ground. If Byleth did not know any better, that enclosed area was supposed to be like the sauna at the monastery.</p><p> </p><p>It was an extremely elaborate setup for a Duke’s private toilet, and while Claude possessed charitable and humble character that was true when present, he was also a little bit vain, taking care in his appearance. This bath was the ultimate proof, and while it was likely that its layout came to be before the war, Byleth felt that it was a little excessive.</p><p> </p><p>But it was also profoundly inviting, beckoning her to take shelter from the war, from the stress of being both the interim Archbishop and the vice commander of the Alliance-Seiros Army. Wafting steam and small droplets caressed the stones, dancing off the vividly colored tiles, barely catching the last rays of the setting sun. The star-shaped gaps that filtered that light refracted diamonds of blue and yellow, casting this beautifully crafted (“<em> And Almyran inspired,” </em>she thought unexpectedly, having dug up some long forgotten memory) sanctuary with elegance and warmth.</p><p> </p><p>Looking at it alone made Byleth feel calm.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmm...”</p><p> </p><p>The hairs on Byleth’s neck shot up, so spellbound that she momentarily forgot that <em> the Duke who owned this bath </em>was present inside. The man was undoubtedly nude and unsuspecting, and Byleth wasn’t ready for him. Even after their intimate moment, she was unused to the idea of seeing him nude...</p><p> </p><p>“<em> I don’t know what to do!” </em></p><p> </p><p>She clutched at the top of her stays, bunching the dress tighter and tighter as the first strands of dark brown hair, damp with perspiration, flipped into view. The enclosed sauna-like space had a window slot, giving Byleth a peek at the Sovereign Duke.</p><p> </p><p>The man was awash with sweat, gently pawing strands of his now-limp hair away from his face. Even in the dim lighting of the sauna space, Byleth immediately felt her face go aflame at the sight of the man’s hair free of pomade. Who knew that such a small change could have left her thunderstruck? Seeing him with his hair and beard whiskers intermingling gave him an air of softness that made her want to reach out her hands and touch.</p><p> </p><p>At most she could see his shoulders and the upper portion of his torso, giving her a peek at the velvety, voluminous hair that circled his arms and sat upon his chest. The patterns on both were near-perfect save for a few scars. The ones on his arms were smaller and more recent, save for a blotchy, star-shaped divot on his upper right shoulder. As for the chest, close to its center was another divot that clearly had come dangerously close to piercing the sac of his heart, and trailing next to it was one of his worst scars: A dreadful burn that chipped away at muscle, causing it to dip a little. This old wound was sensitive to touch, and so with great care, Byleth saw the man very slowly coat this part of him with what appeared to be oil; its thickness made her assume it was olive-based. He then took some kind of soft white stone and gently began to drag it across his body, appearing to slough off dead skin, sweat, scar tissue, and some hairs. Following that was a hempen mitt of sorts, which cleaned up after the impressive amount of slough.</p><p> </p><p>It was utterly fascinating, watching how his copper-cast skin gained a sheen left behind by the procedure. So this was how, even during the war’s most stressful days, Claude’s skin kept its healthy appearance. While her fellow Fodlanese who were careless let their skin burn and blotch, Claude’s never seemed to break, and it was a major point of envy for both men and women alike.</p><p> </p><p>Even Byleth herself felt a bit envious – she gasped, nearly blowing her cover as Claude stepped out of the space, his little buffing routine complete. As his nude form appeared and he began to stretch, Byleth felt her face burst into fire and most of her blood descend south.</p><p> </p><p>In the years that had passed between the end of the 1180 school year and this moment in time, Claude’s once slender yet athletic figure had cut and formed into one that was far more impressive. The heft of the Failnaught and other bows of its ilk gave Claude bulk that was elegant and crafted in the arms, shoulders, and back, all of which were originally deftly hidden by the gambeson and drapery he wore as an Alliance Wyvern Master. Naturally, the muscle wrappings of his stomach also followed suit, but its shapes were softened by the same downy dark hair that graced his chest; It spread delicately onto the stomach and formed a more clustered line down the navel before fanning out into the nest of lush curls below.</p><p> </p><p>Byleth was no stranger to seeing penises, even if most were by accident. Even then, they were lost in the haze that was her life before the monastery, and the few that could be parsed paled in looks alone compared to Claude’s, what with its velveteen skin that puckered at the tip and its appealing size. Never before had she wanted to desperately reach out and caress it for hours on end. Her loins flared further still, and almost unbearably so.</p><p> </p><p>And that same penis was supported by legs sculpted by riding, something that Byleth had also observed during her time as a mercenary. Claude could ride a horse masterfully, but his true calling was the wyvern, whose riding techniques required even more muscular bulk and finesse. Claude’s flashiness on his white wyvern was never just for show; His legs required the power to propel himself into the air and steer, his pelvis and buttocks the power to maneuver his mount into any position the situation required. His single-most impressive maneuver – and the single most impressive display she’d ever witness on any mount, ever – was how he was able to launch himself up and twist backwards onto his saddle, all with naught but his legs, core, and rear, and quickly lay a slew of arrows on the Adrestian general Ladislava. The legs were beautiful, and the rear firm and shapely and touchable, all lined with hair and even more scars.</p><p> </p><p>Byleth had joked to herself that Claude didn’t need the Sword of the Creator to smash apart Fodlan’s Throat – the raw strength of his legs would destroy it just fine!. Those same legs could probably heft her alone! So overwhelmed was she by his beauty and strength and camaraderie that she wanted to faint in his arms, let him caress her and do as he wished.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, how she loved this beautiful man, loved how he made her feel alive!</p><p> </p><p>With all the masculine elegance he carried as a flier, Claude made his way to the sink by the central platform. The wonders of the estate’s plumbing system was put to work as he turned a crank, allowing for hot water to flow freely. He poured some of the water into a ceramic bowl, and into the bowl Into the water went a mixture of yarrow leaves, pine, and almond and castor oil, likely leaving it with an aroma that would wash away odor and keep his skin soft. Taking a different bowl shallow wooden basin, Claude collected the water mixture and poured it slowly over his hair, dampening it further. A set of deft fingers found their way towards a small bowl of some unfamiliar green powder, with another bowl holding what Byleth could only assume was the spice saffron. A few drops of cold water and a small wooden whisk had rendered both powders into a strange paste, and to Byleth’s horror/amusement, both were being dragged gently from the bowl into Claude’s hair, slowly slathering and penetrating from root to tip of his deep wood-colored locks. This process continued for a solid minute, with Byleth’s erotic heat dimming to an ember for a time. It was fascinating, seeing the powdery soap work its wonders on his hair. A beautiful ceramic bowl, decorated with patterns of yellow and red, was filled with colder water from the pump, and Claude steadily let it cascade over his hair, letting the soap slide off onto the tile below.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hey, his hair’s actually curly again,” Byleth quietly commented to herself, watching the powder soap’s nutrients give his hair a healthy shine. While longer, his hair’s ends curled upward, almost like magic, letting the playful countenance of his 18-year old self shine through. How adorable he looked! And how far superior in health and quality his hair likely was, especially compared to her haphazardly cut mop.</p><p> </p><p>Once he finished dusting the remaining bits of powder out of his hair, he reached for a tincture bottle filled with some kind of oil, its label being written in what Byleth had come to recognize as Almyra’s language. She giggled at the label, which featured a charming little lithograph of a smiling sunflower nestled on top of what appeared to be other white flowers and patches of berries. The tincture was an oil, and a dropper within it left two large drops in Claude’s hands. He tenderly worked the oil into his hair, much like the powder, clearly pleased with its properties. It certainly made sense, seeing that the curls became gentler and lost its frizzled strands, becoming as glossy and uniform as it was when it was dry and styled. The flower-berry mixture worked its properties well, letting Claude’s earthy hair bask in good health.</p><p> </p><p>The foul mood that everyone in the army could feel seemed to mostly be gone. The wash made him calm, but he looked sad, a little remorseful, even. A heavy, frustrated sigh left his body as he set aside his tincture and bowls, moving on to the invitingly hot bath on the right side of the room. He let his body sink into the tub, feebly attempting to let his worries melt away. His eyes opened, fixating on the now-darkened sky-dome’s star-shaped holes, with only the oil-fueled lamps serving as the toilet’s light source.</p><p> </p><p>He was still fixated on that reveal had in Sreng, no doubt. Byleth could not blame him, her own inner tribulations be damned. But there was not much that could be done about it at the moment. While she fretted for his dreams, she also had faith that with everything that had happened and the Empire’s true face being revealed, the people of Fodlan would at least take the time to judge before inflicting judgment on his heritage.</p><p> </p><p>But where did that leave Byleth? On some lonely lurch, probably. The same as before that fated day, on the Lone Moon, right as 1179 was coming to a close.</p><p> </p><p>Knowing his grandiosity and her sense of smallness, it was likely where she belonged.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Of course he wouldn’t tell you,” </em> Byleth suddenly thought to herself, a harsh spike of sadness stabbing her in the gut. “ <em> This is the price for letting him take me apart…and yet I still want to be with him.” </em></p><p> </p><p>She bunched up her skirt, her knuckles turning white with frustration. Her knees hit the floor as she whimpered, uncaring of those who might have heard.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> I should’ve just told Wajida not to bother with my gift,” </em> Byleth thought to herself, about to cry. “ <em> It’s useless. He’s practically untouchable, he -”</em></p><p> </p><p>Movement.</p><p> </p><p>In the midst of her sniffles, Byleth’s head sprung like a deer, deftly letting her eyes land on the offender. Despite the distress, her detection of danger was strong, but naturally, this being the Sovereign Duke’s bedroom, there could only be one specific offender approaching her…</p><p> </p><p>If this were one of those tawdry novels that Bernadetta was so fond of, then the fair lady Byleth would either take great offense or lovingly gawk at the dripping wet, salacious-looking gentleman in front of her; said man had now preserved his modesty with a long cotton-threaded towel sewn in stripes of green, white, and black. Unfortunately, reality did not work that way, and poor Byleth wanted to jump into the Great Sea out of sheer embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Sothis, get yourself out of my soul and help me, please!”</em></p><p> </p><p>“...You look like you have a lot on your mind, my friend.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm!?”</p><p> </p><p>Byleth looked up – truly looked up into his eyes, and in their beauty, was now fully able to grasp that sadness seen at a distance. It was not just sadness either – it was weariness, exhaustion...fretfulness? And he was<em> blushing </em> too. It was so soft and dainty, on par with their first night together.</p><p> </p><p>Byleth’s pulse hammered, her body regaining its heat.</p><p> </p><p>“I know this is, erm, <em> extremely </em>forward, but, uh...you look like you could use some relaxation. Like me.” He looked away, feeling shy.</p><p> </p><p>“W-Well, I…”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you were looking at me while I was bathing,” he said with nary an ounce of judgment in his voice, oddly. “Hope you uh, liked what you saw.”</p><p> </p><p>Byleth’s face couldn’t get any redder.</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm…actually, um, about that relaxation thing, I…” He took a breath, uncharacteristically nervous. “...I know we haven’t exactly, erm...<em> been together </em>...for a long while. I’ve at least cleared my head. Maybe I can help you do the same.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Yes.” Byleth looked down, feeling her tears dry on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Sooo…” He huffed, full of anxious energy. “Gah, you’d think I’d be better at this!” He slid his hand through his hair, gripping it in despair as his face evolved from blush to tomato. “You wanna learn and experience this Duke’s beauty secrets?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <br/>
    <span class="u">Chapter Notes</span>
    <br/>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>- The bathing setup is a more clustered setup of a Turkish <i>hammam</i>, or bathhouse.  A <i>hammam’s</i> signature feature is a special massage that, in olden times, actually substituted for the bathing process.  A <i>hammam’s</i> masseuses were called <i>tellak,</i> and they would lather the body with water and soaps and hand-wash the bather themselves. </p><p>- In a <i>hammam,</i> the bather begins in a heated steam room to induce perspiration, the <i>tellak</i> can help you exfoliate, and once the skin is exfoliated, the foam bath massage is applied. The bather then finishes the routine by washing themselves off under running water.</p><p>- Claude’s custom-made bath was made due to the man feeling some rather intense homesickness, and he also desperately needed a private space in the wake of his grandfather’s passing.  The bath’s decor and construction are inspired by the region of Almyra that he was born and raised in (the region that’s the country’s seat of power and home of the Royal Family), which in turn primarily draws on Ottoman and Persian elements; In the case of the former, elements of the Sultan and Queen Mother’s personal baths of Turkey’s Topkapi Palace came to mind.  He had it made by construction workers and architects he hand-picked himself during the early stages of the war (well before the Alliance’s political situation became dire and funding had to be redirected toward the war effort), and since it’s in  his private quarters, naysayers can’t do anything about the Almyran elements.</p><p>- In Claude’s bath, there’s a hot room component that’s akin to a sauna on one end of the room.  To the right of it is the table where a <i>tellak’s</i> services would apply, but naturally he has to exfoliate and wash by himself instead.  Once he finishes this, he finishes off with a nice hot bath that stands in the far right end of the room.  This is primarily for relaxation.  The back wall by the hot room features a mosaic art piece tied to Almyra’s primary religion, the middle of the room features a sitting area where tea can be served right in the middle, and the right end has the plumbing that makes the entire room function.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Falling into Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Let the relaxation commence.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Delicate shards of starlight spread and sparkled like diamonds across the star-shaped holes that pierced the beautiful dome above them. The oil lamps were burning softly, its patterns on the wall reminding Byleth of festive, fiery dancers and flames. The image of it all felt strangely familiar, even though she was sure that this was her first time encountering an Almyran-style bath of any sort. Perhaps she’d solve that feeling in due time, but it was unimportant right now.</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to my home away from home,” Claude hummed, gesturing at his toilet with an endearingly awkward flourish. “It’s, uh, probably not what you’re expecting, is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Byleth said softly, her eyes drawn to the stalactites and the cutouts in the ceiling dome.  Claude drank in the beautiful sight of the stars glittering in her eyes.  “It looks...very inviting.  Warm.”</p><p> </p><p>“Glad to hear,” Claude chuckled, scratching his nose nervously.  “Well, I’ll have you know that in Al…um, in my homeland, we do things in a specific order.  So in order to enhance the experience…”</p><p> </p><p>He was doing it again – she had figured out long ago that Almyra was the land of his birth. His cues made it obvious the more she spoke to him. She had even <em> told </em>him as such, early on in the war.</p><p> </p><p>If it weren’t something that troubled him so, she’d have paid Ignatz a hefty commission to immortalize the expression he made.</p><p> </p><p>But his diversion was likely him protecting himself in light of what happened. And the poor man looked so vulnerable, so <em> endearing </em>in the moment – He was nude save his pretty striped towel, exuding sensuality and beauty without realizing it, and yet he was so flustered that he could not look at her.</p><p> </p><p>She only wished his humility was easier to see. It was another aspect of him that left her smitten.</p><p> </p><p>“I would be happy to perform your bathing rituals properly…” A hand over the mouth, that heat naturally making her face glow. “...If you show me how.”</p><p> </p><p>He swallowed, feeling highly skittish. “W-Well then,” he huffed, tentatively letting his fingers grasp at the pretty pink stays that held her gown’s shape. It was the same adorable, powdery pink that gave fun pops of color to her old mercenary gear, he realized. Slowly but surely, he tugged at one of the lilac ribbons, letting them fall free; He then moved to the stays' laces in the front. She looked at him with a quick nod, and he grasped them.</p><p> </p><p>He drank in the divine sight of her breasts as they were pushed up by the stays. Only the sight of them naked could be better, as he got to witness prior.</p><p> </p><p>“In this kind of bath, the very first thing you do is disrobe,” he began, calloused fingers untying the laces. “The clothing is then stored, naturally.” A gentle tug, and the laces fluttered down. Her chest gently drooped, free from its confines. “You can enjoy a cup of tea before you go in, if you’d like, or you can wait until after you’re done.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am more than happy to wait,” said Byleth, blushing prettily. Claude swallowed audibly, spotting her nipples shyly poking from beneath the soft white dress. “I feel it would be much more enjoyable after we’ve...well, relaxed together.” She looked at him, eyes wide as something struck her: “Ah, well, I know you’ve already bathed, but if it’s okay…”</p><p> </p><p>“We were in the desert for days,” Claude whispered, voice faintly husky. “I could probably go for another bath.”</p><p> </p><p>The laces behind the dress harshly rubbed together, tightening before dropping slack. The dress slowly slid off of Byleth’s body and onto the floor, making her squeak in slight embarrassment as she covered her breasts.</p><p> </p><p>Claude gawked, completely unprepared for her lack of knickers. His mind flew straight into the gutter, picturing her going about her business in that dress, realizing that if he ran past her quickly enough, he’d glimpse at -</p><p> </p><p>“Claude?” Byleth muttered, both nervous and overjoyed at the attention that he gave to her body. “What do we do next?”</p><p> </p><p>“The steam room,” Claude said softly, quickly backing away to produce something: A beautifully dyed towel that was similar to the one he wore. “This type of bath requires a lot of heat.” He stepped forward all at once and gently wrapped the towel around her body, gently drawing her in closer to him.</p><p> </p><p>“This towel,” Byleth whispered softly, looking into his eyes as their foreheads gently touched. For a time she felt that she could forget his lofty, faraway status. “Does it have a name?”</p><p> </p><p>“Um, yes?” He shyly looked at her, his arms frozen in place. “Why do you ask?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because it’s important,” She responded softly. Her arms, in response to his, gently wrapped around him, gently letting her fingers graze over the terrible scars on his back. “I know nothing of these rituals. I simply want to know more. They’re dear to you. I can’t relax unless I learn to appreciate and enjoy this experience for what it is.”</p><p> </p><p>His heritage was a fragile, easily broken scar that he hid, one that was prodded or fixated upon with varying degrees of discomfort. Someone with Byleth’s acuity should frighten him, but she did not – could not. She was curious, but also gentle, wanting pieces of himself, but not all at once. Reverent, but not prostrating, nor false.</p><p> </p><p>If someone could happily share this with him, it was her, and he damned himself for believing otherwise.  The atmosphere was right for it.  He had no doubts that she’d be conflicted, but if they were to bring their respective homelands together and continue their budding love for life(!), then he would have to cast his fear aside.</p><p> </p><p>“Is somethi – mmmph!?”</p><p> </p><p>Claude fiercely wrapped Byleth and captured her lips in a powerful kiss. He could feel her melting in his arms, letting her long-repressed desire loose in the form of clinging to the sturdily-built muscle that he had nurtured during the war. He cursed himself, as his own desire began to swell and stiffen from beneath his towel. No, he told himself. He needed her to relax first...although lazily and happily indulging one another <em> that way </em>could certainly come after, shyness be damned.</p><p> </p><p>He slowly released her, wrapping the cloth around her beautiful body with the same tenderness his father would show to his mother when preparing her for a ride on horseback. He wanted – <em> needed – </em>to do this right.</p><p> </p><p>“This cloth is a <em> peshtamal. </em> The room we are about to enter is similar to the sauna we’ve been to before, but in Almyra, they call it a <em> hararet, </em> or hot room.” His lips dipped very close to her ear, letting her in on a deep, intimate secret. “In there, you let your body get hot and sweaty, and that makes it easier to clean. One can do it alone, of course, but there’s actually a second component that’s <em> real </em>special. And I need a second person to make it happen.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Come with me.  Let me surprise you, my friend.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay…”</p><p> </p><p>She shook like a nettle leaf, a sharp contrast to the tree-like firmness she took on as his tactician and second-in-command. If there was one thing he took comfort in, it was that they were able to explore this unfamiliar thing called love together, for she was surely as unsure as he was. With tenderness that only a gentle prince could give, he guided her to the <em> hararet. </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The cozy hot room – the <em> hararet </em> , Byleth reminded herself – was far more beautiful and intimate than it was at first glance. It was crafted from cherry wood that was similar to Garreg Mach’s sauna, but also was outlined with navy blue and periwinkle tiles that cast the illusion of a night sky and ocean waves, respectively.  Without realizing it, Byleth sat down on the wooden seating area. As sweat began to crawl down her body, she could feel the pent-up tension she had been carrying easing off of her body. In the darkness, she began to feel drowsy, but akin to a sleepiness one felt when embraced by a loved one.  As her <em> peshtamal </em>was laid out below her, the war fled from her mind.  She felt safe.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, that’s right,” Claude breathed gently, his knuckles grazing her from cheek to back. “Just lie there, and rest.” Shuffling sounds. “I’m going to exfoliate your body first with a stone and a mitt.  And then - “He paused, with the clattering of glass and metal ringing softly in Byleth’s ears.“I will use these special soaps to clean you. After that, I will put this butter on you to make your skin soft.”  A soft chuckle. “And you certainly could use them both, Teach.” A poke in her derriere, which rewarded him with a squeak. “Your skin is quite pale and reddens so easily.” A gentle sweep of her back. “It’s a shame, knowing how strong and scarred your body is – strength and beauty, lovingly paired together. I won’t let this redness ruin it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not pretty,” Byleth spilled suddenly, her arms curling snugly to her head. Funny how letting her emotions flow drastically shifted her fantastic indifference to her body to that of worry, never mind that she knew she had little to fear in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>As the first pass of the stone dug up sebum and skin from her right shoulder, Byleth felt herself shudder. It was all too obvious how unused to this kind of luxury she was While the stone buffered and dug at her right, Claude’s left hand meticulously traced and tickled the starburst scar that was present right in the middle of her coccyx. It teased, but gently; He naturally revered it too.</p><p> </p><p>"Teach, don't ever lie to me again," he chided teasingly but earnestly. "Don't you know how beautiful you are? Every part of you, I cherish." His free hand quickly glided to her mint colored locks, massaging them reverently. "Looking at you makes...it makes my chest tight." That same hand danced back down, boldly yet shyly giving her bottom a squeeze. Byleth gasped. "And when I see your clothes torn asunder, or you're wearing something pretty or fashionable, my...my blood runs hot. <em> Very </em>hot."</p><p> </p><p>Byleth couldn’t articulate how one felt “pretty,” but Claude undoubtedly made her feel as such.  His charms were balanced in a way that she could not help but be drawn to him, expose herself to him.  </p><p> </p><p>She subconsciously <em> did, </em>and he squawked.  He gave her bottom a light pat, and she closed her legs, giggling with embarrassment. </p><p> </p><p>“Patience, my pretty Teach,” Claude breathed, letting the exfoliating stone peel away his frustrations for him.  With the exfoliation complete, Claude took the mitt and began to lovingly caress the dead skin that had piled on Byleth’s body. Tempting as it was to touch her further, he refrained - But that could definitely come later.  He lathered his hands in a large metal bowl, letting an impressive amount of suds rise up and plop over its edges.  </p><p> </p><p>“Worry not.  I will exude restraint as a good noble should...for now.  Lest I forget, <em> you </em>have some relaxing to do, young lady.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good girl,” He breathed, and she, to his unexpected delight, flushed even harder than even the heat would have let her.  “Can you turn over on your back for me?”</p><p> </p><p>She did, and his damned prick sprung in eagerness again at the sight of her from the front. Light jade-colored eyes gazed upon him with both apprehension and eagerness, and she could not help but enforce her own modesty, shyly covering her breasts. The exfoliating stone was firmly placed onto her collar bone, this time with a berry-scented scrub accompanying it.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you remove your hands for me, dear friend of mine? I cannot scrub you unless you move them.”  He grinned eagerly, his eyes drawn to those perfect breasts.  “This is used by the ladies of Almyran royalty and nobility to, uh…”  He couldn’t help but shy his head away a tick.  “...Make their breasts look perkier.  I swear I’m serious.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I have nice breasts,” Byleth coyly complained, giving them a teasing rub (“<em> I swear she’ll be the end of me!” </em>).  “I bet they’re even cuter than theirs.”</p><p> </p><p>“When did <em> you </em>learn to become such a tease?” Claude chuckled, dipping his finger in the scrub jar again.  “Pray tell, what will get you to bear those breasts of yours to my unworthy eyes, and allow me to enhance their beauty even further?”</p><p> </p><p>“May I have another kiss?”</p><p> </p><p>Even in his surprise, Claude found his face slackening to that soft sternness he always found himself experiencing when they were alone, for his romantic heart was something he took all too seriously.  So, like the good prince charming he sincerely wished he could live up to, he gently lowered his head and planted the gentlest of kisses on her lips. He was rewarded with the breasts, with rosy-colored nipples that were sizable and charming.  The purplish scrub, with its sweet, heady scent, made Byleth’s eyes widen with an endearing curiosity, and she sincerely hoped that her breasts’ beauty would be enhanced to the highest degree.</p><p> </p><p>The scrub was gently dragged taut over her stomach - a peachy plane of puckered, pink scars dancing over a tight abdomen, with pouches of feminine belly fat sitting on top.  The stone he used on her back was gently dragged over the breasts and stomach, gently circled her wide hips, and lingered down once more across her shapely legs, both firm and soft all at once.  With every gentle drag, Claude would give a caress to her body’s own scars: Assorted scrapes on the shoulders, red keloids on the hips, an angry red line from the Death Knight’s scythe below the stomach, a small yet worrisome set of criss-crosses both inside the thigh and by the wrists.  He gave his highest regard at the rimrod cicatrix that sat nicely between her breasts, extending downward straighter than an arrow - The source of her great powers, as well as a source of sadness.</p><p> </p><p>Once again, being the sweet prince he hoped he was, he pressed a kiss over the scar, silently thanking Sothis’ presence within the Crest Stone that served as her heart.</p><p> </p><p>“Claude…”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re done here,” he whispered huskily.  “Next step is the massage.”  Reaching for her hand, he pulled her smoothly out of the room, giving her barely a moment to catch her <em> peshtemal.  </em> “Come, this way.”  He brought her out of the <em> hararet </em>and to the middle of the bath, where the marble platform and sinks were positioned.  A positively epic bowl of suds was placed next to a series of glass bottles.  “Now, I’m no massage expert, but I’ll do my best for you, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>With a nod, Byleth lied down on her <em> peshtemal </em>once more.  Bumpy, calloused fingers began to glide and press on her back.  Drowning in the rosy scent of the soap, Byleth began to feel foolish for her childish feelings from earlier.  Even if his secrets were still stitched onto his body and immovable, there at least was this sweet romance they had.  Byleth felt that she could happily drown in these feelings endlessly as Claude began to press the sore deltoids and back muscles out of their stiffness.</p><p> </p><p>An especially firm press made her squeak.</p><p> </p><p>“Did that hurt?” He asked gently.</p><p> </p><p>“No.  I just have a lot on my mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“Still?  Would a coin for your thoughts work better then?”  He took another scoop of the sud mixture and lathered it over her legs.  “You can tell me anything, you know.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “That’s kind of the problem,” </em>Byleth thought to herself, turning onto her side.  Claude put the bucket aside and sat next to her, putting her head on his lap.  He gently stroked her hair once more, but could not look at her.</p><p> </p><p>“If this is about my behavior earlier, I’m sorry,” he said in a hushed tone.  “I can, um, explain…well, I mean…”  The clutching of locks.  “You know how I am with...um…”</p><p> </p><p>“...The fact that you’re from Almyra?” She filled in for him.  He cringed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he gasped.  “Still can’t believe you knew for so long, to be honest.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you say that?”  He turned further away.  “Please look at me while I’m speaking to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Teach, you <em> know </em>how people can be here when it comes to foreign things,” He sighed, struggling to meet her eye.  “There aren’t a lot of people like you.  Not everyone can be you.  You get that, don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I do,” She retorted, frowning.  “But you’re going to have to take that plunge eventually.  It’s not going to be easy, and that’s why I want to be here for you.”  She turned away from him, facing the <em> hararet.  </em> “I <em> want </em>to be here for you.  I want to keep sharing these things with you.  You know that I’ve accepted that part of you without question, right?  Did I not let my actions prove it enough?”  </p><p> </p><p>“...I don’t know what to say…”</p><p> </p><p>“Up until recently, I was fine enough with those little hints you dropped,” she sighed, face curling into his thigh.  “But I don’t think I can take it anymore.  Who you are is a big deal, and...well, if my actions alone couldn’t show you how much I cared, then I thought my birthday present would…”</p><p> </p><p>“Present?” Claude inquired.  “You shouldn’t have, Teach.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess not,” Byleth pouted, “seeing that <em> you </em> broke it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wha?”</p><p> </p><p>“On the ride back to town? When you were giving General Nader a hard time?”</p><p> </p><p>Claude gasped. He kicked something out of the cart. He didn’t pay the shattering within it any mind…</p><p> </p><p>“...I got you a tea set.”</p><p> </p><p>The guilt struck Claude like a massive thunderbolt. Before Byleth could blink, he pulled her up and embraced her deeply, Byleth squeaking as his hard muscles ensnared her like a vice. The grip made her feel as though every fiber of her being was on fire. Through his pained whimpers and scrunched countenance, Byleth could feel his apology pour from him, all through his arms. Her arms returned the gesture, snaking around so that she could gaze at his face.</p><p> </p><p>“...Do you believe me now?” Byleth asked quietly. She still reeled from the hurt, but a dreadful feeling of invasiveness challenged it. This <em> was </em>a comforting place for him alone, after all.  </p><p> </p><p>“...Yes.  Yes I do.”</p><p> </p><p>A firm push back on the stone and a simple nod returned her to the land of luxury.  The scent of the roses and elderflowers in the bubbly mix made Byleth drowsy but content.  Claude’s strong hands resumed their duty, now with more fervor than before.</p><p> </p><p>“Now I <em> really </em> want you to relax,” Claude sighed, his blood rushing at a fever pitch. He was straddling her bottom, truly straddling, and not even his own <em> peshtemal </em> could hide the contours of his arousal. “Think of this as my thanks for the present…” His voice dropped, softer. “...And for putting up with my silence for so long.”</p><p> </p><p>Wrapped in hand and heat, Byleth slept. What welcomed her was not the horrifying memories of Fodlan’s past, nor the inky jet-black of Sothis’ old haunt, but a nebulous space of gold and green. Each grip on her waist, each pass of her legs, every little grasp of her arms, all embraced her into a vortex of bright colors. The rose oil conjured ceramic tiles of swirling pinks and blues forming arches and flowers. The elderflowers summoned swaths of yellow and ruby calligraphy, spelling a language that was unknown to her, yet stunning to see. The foam summoned circular lattices that captured light like the star-shaped cutouts did, its beams coming to life and filling her with a sense of vitality that the old darkness could not.</p><p> </p><p>It was a magnificent dream, one that made her joyous. The more she gasped, the harder Claude’s loins stirred, and the bolder his massage became. And the harder he touched her, the more she squirmed. And the more she squirmed, the hotter her lower lips became. The memory of their night together during the Lone Moon burst back to her in a flood of color, and Byleth’s body ran red.</p><p> </p><p>When his palms reached the back of her hands, she looped her arms around his and grasped them, almost desperate.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you kiss me again, Claude?”</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t need to ask twice.</p><p> </p><p>He furiously took a spare empty bucket, turned the crank to the water pipe, and filled it. Sparing no time, he threw the water onto Byleth, squeaking as the suds from the massage slid off her onto the tile below. He then tossed the thing and turned Byleth over once more, but seized her lips like a madman in earnest this time. Byleth gasped as he kissed her, feeling him grind himself upon her almost on instinct. She responded in turn, her nipples rosy and pointed, yearning to be crushed and latched onto like a babe. She was equally frightful and enticed by this emotional rush called passion, and she wanted to savor it better.</p><p> </p><p>She tapped his cheek and he stopped kissing her briefly. Eyes pale like jade gazed upon his grassy colored ones with a shimmer and a hope. While her ability to express herself facially was still imperfect, it was far stronger than before. But those slight changes endeared Claude, and to him the glimmer in her eyes arguably spoke more volumes. This glimmer was innocent, unsure. She yearned to savor this experience, to practice.</p><p> </p><p>It was good that she was in the same mind he was. Whatever flimsy rumors played him up as some louse were comically wrong. This vulnerability was something he’d flee from ten times over up until that night…</p><p> </p><p>Slowly and carefully, he leaned in, lips meeting hers once more. Their mouths rippled as their tongues gently slid over one another, bodies now tangled and warmed. He disengaged, a thin trail of saliva stringing between them, Claude’s face to flushing even harder. He couldn’t help but look away out of shyness as he unwrapped the <em> peshtemal </em>from his body at last, even knowing that she had lingered on his nude form during his bath. Byleth willed herself to sit herself up, visibly intrigued and pleased at his erect penis. A finger gently brushed it, and she grew intrigued at how both soft and hard it was, at how the puckered skin at the tip had rolled itself down to reveal the head.</p><p> </p><p>She kissed the tip, and it was Claude's turn to squeak.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we sit over there?” She inquired breathlessly, pointing at the little lounging area. “I want you to be comfortable.”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-Yes,” he stuttered, wasting no time in following her lead. Like a noble in a painting he sat on the cushions, legs spread wide as he let Byleth’s endearing fixation on his penis play out. Her second kiss on the shaft was bolder, the third on the testicles even more so. With sweet enthusiasm, she then placed her tongue at the base and licked it slowly, from base all the way to the tip.</p><p> </p><p>“P-Please,” he gasped, legs spreading wider. Byleth obliged. Pink lips opened wide and closed over the penis, and she sucked, letting her tongue slowly roll over with each bob. Claude took his hand and gently pushed her in further, guiding her in a manner described in that one tell-all bible that he found hidden away in the deepest confines of the library of Almyra’s own Royal Palace. He felt his pleasure boiling over, feeling a sweet, <em> sweet </em>clenching that ran from base to tip.</p><p> </p><p>It was overwhelming – she was bobbing her head so quickly – The pleasure was coming too fast!</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, no, I’m -“</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t stop it. Before he could push her off, she took him in as he came, eyes blown wide at the presence of the semen in her mouth. She detached herself, coughing some semen as the rest of the load landed on her breasts. It was a breathtaking sight, Claude thought in his pleasured haze. </p><p> </p><p>“I take that this definitely isn’t part of an Almyran bath ritual,” Byleth said breathlessly, awkwardly chuckling to herself. She rubbed the semen onto her skin, and Claude nearly fainted right then and there. “I certainly liked doing it though. And you certainly look more relaxed than before.” Her mouth curved into the kitten-like smile that Claude adored.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re too damn cute for your own good,” He sighed, visibly embarrassed. “Granted, I’m, uh, still not very good at this…” </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no,” He insisted, reaching forward and pulling her up.  He opened her own <em> peshtemal </em>once more, and she suddenly felt herself stiffen at the sight of his almost stern, determined expression. While she had nicely tapered muscle herself, his bulk engulfed her, and Byleth felt herself flush. His overpowering presence and fiercely protective gaze made her lips clench with wanting. “You’ve put up with my secrets after all this time. Let me make you feel good.” A stroke of her hair. “I know it’s only between us, but I...I take this little courtship of ours very seriously. I want to do this properly.”</p><p> </p><p>His lips met her own once more, gently, tenderly. They then ghosted at her ear, brushing sweetly.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Byleth gasped, suddenly feeling hot as his hands slid gently and sensually over her breasts, evoking gooseflesh. His mouth, with gentle eagerness, nibbled and licked from neck to nape, eventually latching and suckling on her right nipple. Even with the two lengthy scars that marred both of her heavy breasts and the area between them, Claude was enchanted by them. Those same masseuse hands aroused the breasts, birthing a feeling that shot down like electricity towards her loins. It took almost no time at all for her nether-lips to dampen and swell. As his mouth slid down the belly, nibbling flesh, Claude spotted the pink vulva, warm and pulsing with wetness shining on a next of pubic hair. His hands clutched at her hips, strong enough to mark, as he felt something primal nearly take control of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, please go there…”</p><p> </p><p>Without missing a beat, and conquering his almost childish awe, Claude placed a kiss on the swollen clitoris, and Byleth squeaked. She felt herself curling inward as he slowly but surely curled his tongue around the nub, caressing both it and the labia, from top to bottom. Touching oneself was <em> nothing </em>like this! Byleth let herself drown in the throes of pleasure as she whimpered, sliding her ass onto him and grinding on his talented mouth and perfectly pointed nose.</p><p> </p><p>Claude’s lids were halfway shut and glazed as he happily suckled and drank in her lips. Byleth let out a shout as he let his tongue sink into the vagina, practically forcing his hands to grasp her bottom harder. More and more, the coil of pleasure wound itself, and the harsher he grabbed her and the more his tongue danced, the more it wound up. She felt a joy like no other, a yearning to scream out with a happiness that she did not think she could achieve otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>“Go faster, please!” Byleth gasped out. “Claude-!”</p><p> </p><p>The coil sprung, and she squealed. Mirroring his orgasm from before, Claude’s eyes widened at the feeling of her come in his mouth. He could see her canal clenching and pulsing, body wracked with sheer delight. He couldn’t help but grin proudly to himself – how far she had come since that gentle little smile she did when Flayn was rescued five years prior. The thought revived his erection, with passionate flames stoked higher than ever before. He could not help but squeeze her, mark her as his with his hands. He rose slowly, come still on his lips, and nearly fell over in a tizzy at the sight of her shuddering figure, whimpering softly. As though frightful, he let his hands gently caress and soothe her with rubs, lowering his body onto hers in a protective manner.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay, Byleth?” He asked softly, face marred with worry. She was able to open her eyes and look back at him, and almost squealed <em> again </em>at his fretting. She decided that she could get quite used to being treasured like this.</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm.” She gazed upon him with sweet joy, her hair spread around the couch’s pillow like sea foam. “I liked that a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s...I swear, you’re something else,” He sighed, and he couldn’t help but smile at how awkwardly earnest she was. Before he could think, he felt her take his hands and made him grip her legs, forcing him to spread herself open like an offering. He looked to her again and saw, etched on her face, a plea. Before he could ask, she spoke once more.</p><p> </p><p>“Claude. Before we go any further, I have to ask you two things.”</p><p> </p><p>He gulped. “Yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“My first question is...no matter what happens, we’ll get through everything together, right? I don’t want to be left alone again.” She took his body and hugged him to her, as if he would fly away from her at any given moment. His right hand removed itself from her thigh, caressing her cheek. He closed in on her, noses brushing.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Byleth. I think you knew that already, but I will tell you as many times as you need me to.” His forehead reached hers. “There’s no way I’m letting you go now. I...I don’t know what I’d do if that happened…”</p><p> </p><p>She smiled, taking a deep breath. A shake. Then: “And my second is...may I call you by your real name?” She grasped him harder. “If not tonight, I would like to someday.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes widened, and he took a shuddering breath. He searched hers, and braced himself. It was time.</p><p> </p><p>“Repeat after me, please: <em> Khaa-lid. </em>It’s Khalid.” He kissed her, wriggling his hips into alignment with her core. “Khalid al-Kir, Fifth Prince of the Seven Kingdoms of Almyra.” The tip of his penis slid around her lips, making her gasp. “…This is my ultimate secret, my friend. I hope that you can someday forgive me for keeping it locked away.”</p><p> </p><p>“Put your penis inside of me and I might just!” Byleth whispered desperately, eyes glimmering with what Claude assumed are unshed tears.  “Please, Khalid…”</p><p> </p><p>No more words needed to be spoken. Byleth moaned, watching with fascination and joy as Claude slowly guided his penis inside of her, gasping as the searing, wet heat enveloped it. He gently and easily slid back, then forth, then back once more, steadily inching ever deeper inside. The smoldering heat made Claude reel, biting his lip as her walls clenched down on him. His hands grasped to the point of bruising once more, and she smiled at him in between gasps.</p><p> </p><p>“Harder, like that,” she wheezed, feeling oddly content with the strange cocktail of pain from the bruises and the pleasure down below. She gazed at his look of concentration, blushing harder at the sight of his bangs covering his brow, overjoyed at the sensation of his body hair rubbing against her flesh. Gaining balance, he lifted her hips slightly and pistoned, letting his penis press and press into every part of her. She cooed and gasped and moaned, feeling herself settle into a rhythm that was far more practiced compared to their first attempt four moons prior. The lovers could barely think, bodies flaring and flinging every which way across the pit of pleasure and tension, but it was clear to anyone who could see them that they were overjoyed. Byleth’s own mind was no longer awash in a black haze, but embraced by a pleasurable, light fog filled with speckles of color and light.</p><p> </p><p>“Lift your hips,” Claude gasped, his voice an octave lower. Byleth happily obliged, arousal bursting like fire at the voice. He kissed her and kissed her, now snapping his hips at a quick pace, the source of their lovemaking now forming obscene sounds.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s hot, Khalid…!” Byleth gasped as he growled, giving a strong bite of her neck. When she tried to reach at him, he gave her ass a spank, and she squealed in delight. “Khalid, please! I, I - “</p><p> </p><p>“Byleth - “</p><p> </p><p>The tensions flung and snapped, and with a final stroke of her clitoris, Byleth felt herself climax once more, letting out a shout that Claude sincerely hoped didn’t wake anyone in the estate. As her body went limp, she gasped and whimpered still, dragging Claude closer to her as his hip snapping became rapid and harsh. Byleth crushed him, lips on his ear as his gasps and groans became happy, pleasured whimpering.</p><p> </p><p>“I, I love you, Khalid - !”</p><p> </p><p>"Ah - !"</p><p> </p><p>He let out a strangled moan, slamming himself fully within her as he finally followed through with his own orgasm. Byleth sighed, writhing at the sensation of his semen entering her, his hips shaking and juddering hard on her skin. After what felt like an eternity, Claude gently collapsed on top of her, gently kissing her.</p><p> </p><p>“Are, are you okay, Byleth…?” He sighed, still breathless and overwhelmed. She nodded and smiled softly, and he was glad. Any sense of ambivalence that his bath could not wash away had finally left him, and he strangely felt like crying. He could tell with a look that she, too, seemed to be on the verge of tears, yet she smiled still. She gave him a quick nod, wrapping her arms around him once more and taking him into a crushing hug.</p><p> </p><p>“Heh, so much for the bath, huh?” He teased, about to drift off. His knuckles brushed the top of her scalp, making his lady love purr. “But what you did get to experience was the majority of it. And yes, that includes me throwing a bucket of water on you to get the suds off.”</p><p> </p><p>“What happens after that?” Byleth softly inquired, smiling at him like he moved earth and stars. “You said that you put butter on your body, and I also remember you cleaning your hair.” She took a strand of his bark-colored hair in her fingers, admiring it. “Even now, it’s so nice and strong. I still need all your beauty secrets!”</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, Teach,” he said, feeling light and goofy. “Can you, uhm, give me a moment? I promise I’ll spill whatever secrets I have left, I just...ehehe...”</p><p> </p><p>With great effort, he disengaged his penis and gave her a kiss, taking great effort not to fall over. He kissed her forehead and let her drift off for a spell, and Byleth finally felt at peace for the first time in a long time.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“My face feels softer than it’s ever been” Byleth commented softly, taking another sip of the robust, aromatic red tea – the Southern Almyran tea that was dubbed “Seiros Tea” in Fodlan – that Claude had served in a beautiful glass mug. “It smells wonderful too. You’re making me want to flood the monastery with roses.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lorenz would be all too pleased,” Claude bantered lightly, his fingers brushing her now plump skin. She giggled, giving his cheek a playful pinch.</p><p> </p><p>He was pleased at the revised facial tincture that made her skin glow, having had to dial back the saffron that nearly dyed her skin yellow. Who knew that the hemp he kept with his pipe stash would make her skin glow the way it was now? His lady love now smelt of roses and lotus flowers and buckthorn and hemp, and was a sweet picture of seduction in the pale pink and ruby cotton dressing gown he lent her.  Her now-treated hair intermingled with the dark nest of curls that sat on his own chest, which nicely shone in contrast to his own dark emerald and gold robe. He took a sip of his own cup of tea and leaned back, and Byleth frowned a little.</p><p> </p><p>“You really okay with me not giving you a birthday present?” She asked, feeling a tick insecure. Claude gawked, planting a kiss on the top of her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Byleth, please. <em> I </em>was the one who ruined the gift you got me. If anything, I owe you for going out of your way for updating this poor little set of mine. I’ll repay you in due time.” Another kiss. “And besides, I think you’ve given me a gift that’ll be difficult to top.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what would that be?” She asked, genuinely curious. “A-Aside from the sex, that is.” Her face went pink, and so did his. Ah, even now, neither of them could help their embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>“You,” He stuttered, taking a deep breath. He was able to overcome his little hump and gazed upon her. “...I think you’ve given me some serious peace of mind.” His forehead tapped hers once again, and she leaned into him in turn. “And more than that, I now get to really experience what my parents have.” A sweet kiss. “I hope you feel that way too.”</p><p> </p><p>A reverent gaze back at him, and a gentle nod. “Mhm.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad.” A kiss on the lips, and he snuggled her into him more, leaning back on one of the lounge area’s pillows. “One last thing” I would...It would make me happy if you called me by my birth name. But I’d like to keep it private for now. I’m nowhere <em> near </em>ready for the others to find out about that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be careful...Khalid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Byleth…”</p><p> </p><p>As they fell into one another’s arms, warm with tea and love, embraced by the filtered starlight that hung above them, the two lovers found that they no longer had much to fear. For Byleth, her worries over his status felt far less insurmountable than before. For Claude, his fears over that dreaded thing called trust felt less intimidating. While the respite would be shorter than they’d like, it would hopefully be the first of many for decades to come.</p><p> </p><p>All was warm.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <b>
    <span class="u">Chapter Notes</span>
  </b>
</p><p>- Claude regularly exfoliates and lubricates his skin with an olive and castor oil base; During the <i>hararet</i> portion of the bath he lets his pores open and slathers himself in these oils.  He exfoliates dead skin and hairs off with a <i>rooshoor</i>(a type of exfoliating stone) and a <i>kiseh yazdi</i> (a mitt used to hold the stone).  After he washes himself, he keeps his skin nice and soft with a body oil made of jasmine, rose, and milk, and a body butter made with a beeswax base.  He uses two facial tinctures: He begins with an astringent toner made of artemisia flower and rice bran, followed by a moisturizing tincture made of a mixture of ghee (butter), licorice, almond oil, and bhasma, a carefully crafted ash.  For his hair, he cleans it with saffron and sedr (a lotus plant) that he grinds into a paste; this is also used for his facial hair.  Once his hair is cleaned, he moisturizes and reinforces both hair and scalp with cold-pressed sunflower and jasmine oil.  Sunflower oil is cited to protect hair from the environment, while jasmine has antifungal properties.  Both also prevent the scalp from drying out.</p><p>- A <i>peshtemal</i> (The towel used both as a bath cover and as an apron in the 	Ottoman Empire) and a robe are available for Claude at all times, as is a tea set (one that’s seen better days, per his own admission) with a storage space for snacks.  There’s also a <i>ghalyan</i> (smoking) pipe that he bought with him from home, but he rarely uses it.</p><p>- The description for Seiros Tea in the game denotes that it’s a black tea from Southern Almyra.  In the part of the Kingdom where it’s harvested, which embodies both the sub-kingdoms of Arshak (home of the Royal Capital) and Manas (the smallest of the sub-kingdoms), it is called <i>Shamshiri çayı,</i> or Shamshiri’s tea.  It is based off of the real life Rize tea (<i>Rize çayı</i>), which is grown in Turkey’s Rize province, located in the country’s northeast bordering the Black Sea.  “Shamshir,” as it turns out, is also not just the name of a type of longsword often used in Manas, but it is also a family name held by one of the Kingdom’s oldest and most revered bloodlines, so its Fodlanese moniker is something of a happy accident.</p><p>- As the Shadow Library explains, there is a vast reserve of oil in northern Faerghus that the Church initially deemed as taboo for use.  While not explicit, the usage of explosive battalions in the game likely means that oil is being used in small quantities.  As the church sited oil’s toxic properties and potential economic strife from competition as reasons for the ban, it is now likely allowed under highly restrictive circumstances, such as the oil lamps Claude uses to light his toilet with.  It’s often rumored that some of Faerghus’ woes in the current era could be partially curbed by taking advantage of the reserve, but much of the nobility and the late Regent were still leery of it.  While the Central Church is often blamed for this reluctance, the late Regent has explained more than once that an infamous incident involving a spill of the toxic substance into Lake Teutates thirty years prior is the true culprit behind leaving it alone.</p>
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